


Morning Star

by Xiip



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Historical Inaccuracy, I love angst, I shoved so many headcanons in here, Tags and Ratings may change, a little too much but hey whats joy without the pain, at this point of drafting and plotting i can only push through with whatever i had before, defining demons here as the spawn of lilith and fallen angels, during research, even if i find out some fact that screws up my timeline, i have no idea what im doing, i have not read the bible, i just love big wives and their tiny husbands, please dont beat me to death with the bible, religious inaccuracy, this fandom needs more content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-08 13:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21476683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xiip/pseuds/Xiip
Summary: Lucifer's fall and how he met Lilith, and  how their love came to be.
Relationships: Lilith/Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 81





	1. Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Hazbin hotel or any of its characters. Vivziepop does.  
All we have at the time of writing this that is canon is the pilot, some tweets and whatever that vivziepop decides to tell us. The canon story will very likely not be even remotely similar to whatever im writing.  
Buuuuut I wrote this while 110% being thirsty for lilith so i think that justifies it.  
i tend to edit small words and such here and there whenever i see an error, dont mind me  
Be warned: as a student slowly wasting away under stress, updates will be inconsistent asf  
enjoy!

Lucifer was a convicted man. His sin was vanity. His sin was the sabotage of Adam and Eve. His sin was daring to wage war with God himself. His sins...his sins… They broke his wings, they cut his skin. His sins had been torn from his body, like shadowy snakes they clung to him. Like chains, they grow heavy. It was his sins that wrapped around him, pulling him down, further and further from light that he had known all his blessed, immortal life. Like unforgiving shadows, they bound his wings and limbs, twisting them as he fell, faster and faster. Falling towards a world of fiery red.

The impact shook him to his very core, shattering his already crippled wings. As he lay there, reeling from the shock, Lucifer dimly noted that his sins, cold, heavy and dark, were being reabsorbed into his body, eating away his halo, dulling his light. His blood was as red as the dry earth beneath him. The pain of the chains digging into him, the jolt of the fall, the agony of bleeding out all sharpened into one unending tidal wave of hurt. Having a humanoid body instead of an existence as a ball of pure light was already being difficult. He had crashed through a roof of some kind, glass shards and debris littered about him, the distinct feeling of splintered plank below. Hazy with pain, Lucifer dragged up enough energy to heal his physical wounds. He winced as his arms snapped back in place, and then his legs. Spitting out his own blood from his mouth, the fallen angel stood.

News must get around fast in Hell, to have gathered such an audience of the damned so quickly. They towered above him, as demons tended to do. Each of them were wary, yet daring to appear in front of an angel, fallen or not, said enough about their intentions. The two parties surveyed each other, waiting for the first move. A small imp, red skinned and yellow eyed, took the first leap. It charged at Lucifer, yelling some kind of war cry. He didn't bat an eyelash before incinerating the fool with a blaze of white light. The crowd took a collective step back, some baring their teeth, some flexing their claws. Lucifer tilted his head, weighing his options. To slaughter or not to slaughter? That is the question, now that he has fallen. He had a long time to think about this while he was on the way down, to vent his frustrations upon the denizens of Hell, to make himself an enemy of both the blessed and the damned? Or to go by some other approach? The surrounding demons decided it for him, as a wave of them surged, unable to hold back their pitiful bloodlust, to attack him. The incineration took mere seconds. The crowd jittered, trembled, took a few more steps back.

"You are pitiful beings," he declared to the gathered demons, silencing their whispers. Lucifer flashed them all a mirthful smile that reached no further than the corners of his lips, "not simply because you are weak, but because you do not understand your limits."

If Heaven had an apple bough shoved so far up their ass that they cannot accept him, Lucifer thought as he cleaved through the demons with an arc of blindingly white light, then he will just have to make Hell bow to him.

It was not as simple as he thought. The demons he struck down slowly rose up again, each as surprised as Lucifer was. They took hours to return from the ashes he had reduced them to, some forming terrible amalgamations as their regeneration went haywire. But they returned. This was an open show that his power was no longer that of an angel's. He had been wholly cut off from heaven. Lucifer grit his teeth. They could not remove the raw power that had been woven into his very being, so they resolved to using such petty measures to ensure Lucifer would be inconvenienced in Hell. To make matters worse, his wings refused to heal. They hung limp from his back, feathers in uneven clumps, trailing blood across the rocky ground of Hell. The demon hoards were unending. The initial shock and fear dissipated as they realised he could not fly nor banish their souls like the angels that came for years exterminations could, and they attacked. It was becoming a war of attrition that Lucifer was destined to lose. There was no end to the sinners who desired vengeance against Heaven, even if it meant going against a fallen angel.

His body ached. His hair was an absolute mess. His wings, once strong and beautiful, were now nothing but charred stumps from a demon's lucky shot. Lucifer knew that his light was growing dimmer with every new wave of attackers. He was no longer incinerating entire demons, but aiming for their vitals instead. At least, whatever vitals he could discern from their bizarre bodies. He was going to go down to a bunch of cannon fodder demons, the thought shocked Lucifer. He, Lucifer the Seraphim, Lucifer the Beautiful, Lucifer the Morning Star…

A sunburst of white light exploded from him, enveloping the half leveled street he had been fighting on, dissolving the advancing demons and scattering the ones who were lucky enough to be just out of range. How _dare_ they? **_How dare they?_** The indignity! The _audacity_! In the aftershock, he escaped, winding through the twisting alleyways of the city. Lucifer knew he needed rest. Rest and then he will be back to murder these cretins who dared to even think they could ever hope to defeat him.

It was simple enough to find an empty apartment. Or rather, to empty out an apartment. The demon he found living alone in a crooked apartment complex found itself woken up rudely by a being in white, and was promptly tied up and made to drown in their own bathtub. Lucifer was taking no chances to let the demon regenerate and reveal his location. Collapsing onto the demon’s pathetic cot, Lucifer barely had time to consider just how far he had truly fallen before darkness claimed him, swift and merciless.


	2. Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer is an egoistic, conceited, arrogant dumbass. Served with a drop of sweet ambition and bitter reality check.  
Lilith is hot and Lucifer has eyes.
> 
> for the clothes that appear in this text: i highly doubt suits and stuff were invented back in the BC era so.

Lucifer knew a dream when he saw one.

Lucid dreams used to be the only way the angels, even the Seraphim, could receive His words and their orders. Those dreams were always filled with light and some distant booming voice that he would forget the moment he woke, and only the message remained. Those were the only kind of dreams he ever knew.

This was a very different kind of dream, now that he had been pruned from Heaven like a dead branch. One filled with blood and screams and beautifully simmering hatred. A fittingly hellish dream for him, Lucifer thought dryly, helplessly bound in this dream by the same dark chains that had pulled him down. He wondered if this was what a nightmare felt like, why humans woke screaming at night. In the dream, he was whole again, his wings a bright, illuminating white, curling around and framing his body. But it was a nightmare after all and a demon, a fabrication of his own mind, sank its fangs into his wings. It tore through feather and muscle and bone. It laughed and gargled in the voices of the other jealous, jealous angels.

_Predicament befits you, Traitorous One._

Lucifer jerked awake.

He was lying on his side, drenched in cold sweat. It took him a few blinks to remember he was no longer at his usual station, nor at his war tent with the sounds of his troops around him. He had just rested on the threadbare cot of a demon he groggily remembered was currently drowning endlessly in its own bathtub. 

Angels never slept. They were not mortal souls, they needed no sustenance beyond the holy light of Heaven. They were creations meant to serve a purpose. Tools and weapons and messengers. Angels only ever went into trances, to conserve energy, wait for their next mission, meditate or focus of restoration. 

Lucifer shook himself out of his trance and gingerly sat up, giving himself a quick look over. All but his wings seemed to be in perfect working condition. Those once-luminous wings, his pride and joy, now seemed to be stuck as half charred stumps and there was nothing he could do about it. Shaking that helpless thought from his head — he sure seemed to be having a lot of those lately, how unlike him — Lucifer stood, acutely aware of the stiffness in his limbs and joints.

How long had he been in that restorative trance for? Peeking through the dingy curtains, he spotted a large clock tower that loomed above the rest of the buildings in the city. Under the crooked clock face, the words read:

Next Cleanse: 236 days

Quickly racking his brain, Lucifer calculated the time since the last cleanse of hell to the day of his fall, the time he had spent fighting, and now…  
He had been in a trance for four days. This simply will not do, how could he, _ the one and only _Lucifer be forced to enter such a long restorative trance from clearing out a few small fry demons? This blow to his pride was not to be tolerated.

First things first, get presentable, then he can devise a battle plan. He had lead armies to war, and he himself was arguably stronger than an army combined. Wingless or not, He was going to crush Hell into his grasp.

Rummaging through the demon’s clothes, he finally fished out a set of robes that were not ratty, holey or torn. Tentative, he snapped his fingers, grinning as the stiff, reddish fabric turned silky soft and snowy white. The power of miracles was not lost to him yet. _ Now _ he was ready to destroy those damned fools.

Lucifer knew Hell, ruled by its sole Queen, Lilith. She was said to be the first woman, created before even the likes of Eve. The Mother of Demons, the Mistress of Hellspawn, The First Succubus. Angels were created to fear her, hate her, be wary of her and all her kind. Lucifer was no different at creation, but now he saw the value of her position.

She was beloved by all demons in...various ways. He knew very well how demons viewed her. Some think of her as a motherly figure, a few consider her as their rightful Queen and Ruler, and others only leered after her as a woman. All of them saw her as an existence above their own.

All that Lucifer needed to do was to overthrow the queen bee of Hell, and the entire hive would crumble at his feet.

Lucifer washed and dressed, admiring himself in the reflection of a blade, one of many that the demon had kept lying around. The sight of his own body was always a welcome. Smoothing back his luscious hair, he puffed out his chest. The fall certainly had not done much for his visage, but he was not doing terribly either. Next, he practised smiling, making sure it complimented the red in his cheeks. If he was going to walk back to the battle, he might as well look good while at it. Were it not for his wing stumps, he would still have been the vision of beauty. He would be...

Was he settling for something less than perfect now? The reflection of the imperfect, wingless, grounded creature in the dagger scowled at him. Lucifer threw the blade, sinking it solidly into the wall. What, did the fall to Hell get him a concussion? Such thoughts were useless, he can dwell on them later. For now, he had a new war to plan for, more demons to make examples of and a queen to butcher.

Looking down from a narrow window at the crowded little street below, full of various demons milling about, Lucifer could not help but grin. These were not his troops, they were not his demons. These were imbeciles to become the bloody steps at his feet in his climb to the top. He was Lucifer, after all. There is no place for him in any realm save for the pinnacle. The smirk only grew wider as he noticed a poster of sorts fly by, his face crudely — and insultingly inaccurate too, how dare they render his lips like that! — painted on it. So he already had a prize on his head, very well, it only served to make things more exciting.

Before long, Lucifer found what he was looking for; a demon holding an angelic spear sauntered down the street, the others giving it a wide berth. As he had guessed, the handful of spears they abandon in Hell every year made its rounds among the demons. This was why angels should never have allowed their weapons to be left in this cesspit, even though it was currently working wonderfully in his favor. Perfect.

The sound of shattering glass was far too frequent in Hell to be anything worth looking at, but the blaze of white light made everyone look up, including the demon with the spear.  
The last thing it saw was a bright white smile on a bright white face.

Lucifer rode on the impact of the blast, gently touching down on the ground. He picked up the spear and inspected it, pretending to not notice as the other demons around him scrambled back, hissing and snarling. It was in mint condition, how nice of that sinner to give him a means of doing his very own cleansing! Now…

Hopping up onto the ledge of a second story balcony, Lucifer faced his audience of sinners for the second time, twirling the spear as his yellow gaze swept through the uneasy crowd. He cleared his throat.  
  


“Demons and sinners!” Lucifer spun the spear once more, checking to make sure that just about every single eye up and down the street and then some was now staring at him. He thumped the spear upon the ledge, “Thank you all for your attention!” Lucifer’s grin split his cheeks and in the next second, a burst of light spread from him. It was kept purposefully kept weak, with the intention to blind rather than kill.

He was moving even before they started to recoil. 

The blinded demons stumbled, colliding and shrieking, clawing at each other to get away. The immediate insanity and chaos was far, far too amusing, but Lucifer did not have time to enjoy it fully, he had work to do.

One head, two heads. The spear was a familiar weight in his hand. Nothing compared to the grander weapons he used to have as a seraph, of course, but it was still ironically comforting to feel the blessings of angels within it. The little blade did its job well, its wicked edge cleaving through flesh and bone like a knife through butter, drenching Lucifer in blood. 

He dared not channel his own energy through the angelic weapon in case he manages to corrupt it somehow, but where the spear could not reach, his white, once holy flames were ready to raze down any who tried to fight or to flee. The blinding flash was only temporary, of course, but now that this fallen angel could actually permanently exterminate demons, the fear came rushing back again.  
Lucifer could bathe forever in the terror in their eyes. Terror of him, terror of his power, terror of their imminent doom. He laughed in their faces before he sliced them off. The thrill of the kill was as he remembered it, exhilaration beyond imagination, a beautiful dance of madness and chaos. 

Lucifer had no use for these cannon fodder, this massacre was simply a show of what he could do. Lilith was his ultimate prize. Once he had her head, Hell would surely bow before him. Yes, bow, for these worthless sinners only understood fear and power, and Lucifer was all too happy to help them understand him.

The demons before him suddenly focused on something behind him, some mix of reverence of gratefulness filling their foul faces. Lucifer barely had the time to yank one up by its neck to use as a shield before dark fire erupted against it. He whistled, and tossed the charred corpse aside. 

“Just the one I was looking for!” Lucifer blinked, flashing the most charming smile he knew. His chest heaved in short gasps, a mix of adrenaline and exhaustion battling for control in his veins. His hand holding the spear had lost all feeling what must have been hours ago. Surely he must have slaughtered through a third of the city at this point, all of it leading up to this moment. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, the name is Lucifer! How do you do?” He sketched as low a bow as he dared without looking like he was asking to get his head blown off, smile still present.

The woman facing him only arched a brow. The remaining demons had scattered, leaving only the two of them with the scattered carcasses. Some kind of fire scuttled at her fingertips, licking up and down her flowing black robes.

She was certainly impressive in height. Taller than most demons he had seen so far, with a head of blond hair and great, curling horns. A dark and heavy crown sat on her head like the hellish parody of a halo. Her face was certainly easier on the eyes than most of the other rabble he had been killing. Her body belonged to a succubus indeed, one who drew her victims in with the curl of a finger, then feasted and reveled on their lust. Those pale eyes, like shards of ice framed by thick lashes, narrowed.

“Oh? You face me with such manners while dressed in the remains of my people, Lucifer of the Seraphim,” Lilith gave a small smile of her own, cold and mocking, “tell me, to what do I owe this visit?”

Lucifer flashed his teeth, “Nothing but your throne and my ambitious heart, Queen Lilith,” he flexed his fingers on the spear under the guise of twirling it for show, splattering blood onto the ground. He would need that bit of mobility soon enough. Lucifer was proud, not stupid. Lilith was most certainly a force worth reckoning with.

“Ambition you say? All I see is bitter spite at Heaven,” so she knew of his fall, of course she did. The seraph title must have just been to toy with him. No matter, nothing matters as long as he can stand at the top.

“Spite would be unbecoming,” Lucifer put his free hand dramatically over his chest, fluttering his lashes as if scandalised, “please, do think of it as another word for revenge, petty as that concept is.”

Lilith gave a little laugh, the sound high and lilting, “We do not get such...holy guests of your caliber here often. Would you care for the proposal of a game?”

“Consider my curiosity pricked, dear Lady.” 

She held up a single finger, “Once. Make me bleed just once from…” she swept her hand down the curves of her body, “...anywhere you can. If you manage that, I shall grant you one wish. A-ny-thing within my capacity to fulfill. Interested?”

Those words contained magic, lulling him in like the promised honey of some carnivorous plant. Lucifer shook himself out of its pull and raised his brows at Lilith, “I did not take you for one to resort to such means,”  
  
“Oh, but that kind of magic only works on those who were already bewitched,” her small pout, every sway of those hips and even the tilt of her chin...everything was finely crafted to be a most beautiful package, made to seduce, “no matter, will you take part in this game? Or shall you walk to your fate without even a tangible reward?”

This insulting woman, how dare she imply- no, not the time to lose focus, not here, Lucifer rolled his shoulders back and made a show of considering her offer, “Why, you sure know how to make an unrefusable offer, Queen Lilith. It seems that I must take you up on that deal, so long as you uphold your end?”  
  
Her fingers lengthened and taper into claws in a split second, that sanguine smile curling into something wider, more sadistic. Lucifer reflexively brought up the spear, mirroring her leer with one of his own.

“That’s a promise, Angel boy,” 


	3. Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An attempt to write a fight scene.  
Lilith is HOT. Lucifer has a working pair of eyes.  
Lucifer is also pretty beaten up.  
They talk.
> 
> I am terrible at summaries.  


The War in Heaven were memories that Lucifer held dearly. 

The everyday mundanity of caring for his troops, listening to reports, planning their next move, bonding with those angels and demons who were willing to stand and die by him, for his leadership. The daily sparring they did to hone their skills, the friendly banter, the camaraderie. The peace before the tempest of battle.

Lucifer also remembered, clear as day, his duel against Archangel Michael himself, the foolish one who did not recognise the power they could have wielded together as brothers in arms. The snide remarks Lucifer would slip into his ears at every chance, mocking and tempting, yet of course Michael was ever the Saint and never swayed. They had matched, blow for blow, a different kind of connection strong between them, brothers and enemies and sons of God.

Battling with Lilith reminded him of those delightfully warring times.

He could not lay a finger on her. 

Whatever dark forces — perhaps even Hell itself — she commanded, they kept her far out of reach of his spear and shielded against his light. That black fire Lilith wrapped around herself seemed to have a life of its own, defending and attacking and counter attacking in the same breath. If Lucifer were any less skilled, he was sure he would have been ashes in the wind hours ago. 

“It's only two days, cherry dimples, tiring out already?” Lilith smiled down at him from her perch on her makeshift throne of hellfire, “Your pretty face all scratched up and your feathers all ruffled, you’re really so cute, you know?”

Lucifer felt ready to spit hellfire of his own at her condescending tone. He knew he looked a mess, yet she dared to look as fresh and as seductive as when she had first arrived. The sheen of sweat on her skin only served to accentuate the amount of it that she was showing. If it were not for Lilith’s constant taunts and...and _ attempts _ at temptation, he would be able to savor the thrill of the fight. 

His wounds, though he suffered them, were shallow, inflicted by her claws and flames and, in one instance, her fangs grazing Lucifer’s neck with a playful nip. How dare this woman toy with an angel’s mind and body? The audacity of her seduction! If God had ever made a mistake, it was to reject Lilith, unleashing her upon the world. There was no way for him to win this in any righteous, honorable way, since she was so eager to distract him, it was only fair for him to return the favor.

“Well, I definitely see where ‘Heav'n has no Rage, like Love to Hatred turn'd, Nor Hell a Fury, like a Woman scorn'd’ comes from,” Lucifer lunges with the spear, but fell short to twist away from the claws of flame, “tell me, oh Mighty Queen, how much did it hurt to get rejected by a man and get cast down to Hell because of it?”

It was a low blow, sure, but Lucifer had to leap out of the way of a tongue of flame that attacked with enough force to crack the ground he just stood on. _ Someone _ certainly had a sore spot. 

Her smile certainly seemed wilder now, “The fallen angel asks! Why don’t you tell me all about your wings then, or should I say...stumps?”

“Have you ever laid eyes on Eve, Queen? Her demure conterance, her innocent nature?” A bolt of light scattered the onslaught of fiery claws, but only more pressed on. She could not tell that those stumps were throbbing in agony, right? But never mind that for now, he already had her sore spot nailed. “You have not, have you? Maybe if you were not busy drowning your grief in bed with beasts, perhaps you would have, and learned from it!”

“You think I desire to be like that wrench? Now _ that _is truly insulting, little Heavenly Bird. Did you get her banished from that Garden in hopes she would join you here?” Lucifer ignored her taunts. Focus, he was going to make every opening count, use every leverage he had. Think, Lucifer, think!

“All I hear are the words of a jealous, unloved woman, Queen Lilith,” Her eyes were turning red. A great sign that she was losing composure and probably creating more openings in her defense, not so great for his imminent physical health. Lucifer dodged another attack a split second too late and heard the already tattered robe tear, felt the warmth of his own blood trickle down his chest, every wound stinging from the heat and sweat and grit.

“And all I see before me is a mockery of an angel who shall soon die like a beetle torn of its wings.” Something in Lilith’s voice cracked, and she covered it up with a roar. Mind racing for something to incense her more, an unwelcome thought invaded him. They were both children of God, both abandoned in this cesspit to rot while the rest of creation thrived above them, within sight and out of reach. They were not so different, Lucifer and Lilith. The only difference was that she had been here longer than he, perhaps that was some of her own despair in those thorny words meant for his ego? 

What was he _ thinking _ ! No, no, no! Empathy will not do, not now, he needs to- needs to-  
“My wings shall heal with time, what of your heart? All this time, you still lust after Adam-”

“** _Do not speak that name to me!_ **” With an unholy screech, she seemed to twist, morph, grow larger. She was quickly towering over him, over the few buildings not yet leveled in their battle, more monstrous than ever before. A lovely, grotesque patchwork of beasts and woman. Lucifer grinned his widest yet, smiling in the face of Hell and death incarnate.

Victory was his, her flames were gone.

With a burst of whatever energy he had left, Lucifer took hold and climbed up Lilith herself, hanging on for dear life, the roots of his wings felt like they were screaming. He dodged claws, wings and...was that a tail? No time to linger on it, he hauled himself up and across the scales and feathers on her once smooth arm. Lucifer’s wings may be out of commission, but as with most of his concerns these days, they will have to wait to be dealt with. The monster that was Lilith swatted at the fallen angel like some bug on her shoulder, flames back in her claws as she regained some semblance of control of her outburst, but it was already too late. 

Lucifer was on her shoulder, blade at her neck, poised in the gap between scales.

In that split second of decision, Lucifer fully, completely blamed it on her succubus magic, on whatever ‘goodness’ that was still left in his corrupt being, on his exhaustion, on the glint of tears that he swore he saw in her eyes. Another alternative would be too humiliating to bear.

Instead of driving the spear home and taking her head, Lucifer slashed along that gap instead, as if his hand had slipped, chipping her scales. Lilith’s claws were flying at him, promising death. He cursed his own stupidity and moment of hesitation, raising up the spear defensively as an instinctive attempt to try and soften the blow somehow.

Suddenly, she froze. The scent of blood, for once not Lucifer’s, filled the air. Both turned—in Lilith’s case, tried to turn, but one cannot see one’s own neck— and watched in shock as a small trickle of dark red blood ran down her scales.

There was a heavy pause, Lilith’s claws, still coated in molten flame, were mere inches from his face. All Lucifer could hear was the throbbing of his own heart and the roar in his veins. The air held only their ragged breathing. 

With a heaving, shuddering sigh, the shoulder under his feet shifted and shrank. Before he could lose his footing, Lilith’s claws plucked him off and deposited him back on the ground.

“Hey-” he tried, reaching a hand out with half an attempt at smiling, voice cracking slightly as Lucifer struggled to control his breathing.

She refused to look at him and only pressed her palm over the small cut on her neck. There was another heavy pause before she spoke, voice low and quiet, “That was our bargain. Our…” she cut him a glare sharper and colder than the frozen lake of the ninth circle, “...little game. You have outplayed me, it is my loss.” She spat out the last word as if it had left some foul taste on her tongue.

Lucifer blinked owlishly, he must be going mad to think he heard begrudging respect in her tone, “Pardon me if sparing your life was rude, or if you had preferred death to defeat. Look, it was, ehh- I- that is, erm-” it was unfair, really, for her to look...like...like a succubus still, even while dejected and sulky, angrily trying to flick her tears away without him noticing. Surely he had other reasons for being tongue tied. Such as the fact that he was slowly losing feeling in his limbs. And the fact that his heart rate was not slowing, and his wounds were not closing as fast as they should. And that the pain from his wing stumps felt like they were eating him alive And, was it just him, or was the red of the sky and the red of the ground bleeding into each other. Did he overexert himself? 

“No soul would willinging choose death, nonexistence, over being able to live and execute revenge,” Lilith flipped her hair over her shoulder and tidied it with a strained casualness, even her flirty tone sounded forced, “so, tell me your wish, Apple Cheeks. What do you want most in this entire cursed inferno of Hell?”

His feet carried him closer to her, numb and stumbling. She raised an eyebrow at him, eyes narrowed to hateful slits. She did not move away when he laid a hand over hers, covering the small wound at her neck with her. They stood, still as marble, as though time itself had ceased in the moment. 

What did he want?

Beauty. Revenge. His wings back. Power. Her to stop looking like she despised him. Her throne. A good, long rest. Some medication for his injuries. Her head. A cane to lean on while his feet felt like stones and his legs like straw. Vengeance. Proper clothes. A bath. Her lips. The list goes on forever, thoughts and desires swimming in and out of his head, impossible to list. Something did not feel right about these wishes, but he could not quite put a finger on what. Anyways, was it always this cold in Hell? Lucifer could feel his skin getting clammy. A nice warm fireplace sounded tempting.

“Angel boy, you are being difficul- Angel boy?” Lilith’s voice sounded far away, yet her mouth was right there. Full lips. Her skin was so warm and hot compared to his. His heart rate was not slowing, is that normal? What about her heartbeat? He wanted to hear it. There was a scent about her that made Lucifer want to lean in closer. Something spicy.

“I do not- I am- My mind is- eh, muddled, its quite-” he closed his eyes, unsteady, senses swimming like fish in a pond. Lucifer felt himself pitch forward head first and darkness claimed him again.

…

Lucifer had another dream, so he must have fallen into a trance right there, how utterly shameful.

Once again, he was bound. That really needed to stop happening.

In this dream, he was with his fellow Seraphim, the ones who could not see his vision, blind as they are with their love for God. They were ripping out his sins. One by one, Piece by piece. Except, mixed among these sins were faults he did not have previously, deeds that were not his own. Lucifer spoke up.

_ This is an accusation, not a trial. _

The Seraphim turned to him as one, their grinning faces twisted like demons and devils. Their halos were their horns. Their feathers, their scales.

_ Traitorous Morning Star, look how freely your desires run. _ _  
_And with a heave, Michael took hold of something within his chest, and ripped Lilith out.

Lucifer lurched awake.

He was alone in a humongous bed of black velvet and fur coverings. Under the dim light, he could see little of the room save for the dark red curtains that drape from ceiling to floor, illuminated by the slim windows behind them, casting light through them with a dull red glow. It took Lucifer a moment for the recollections of the fight to come flooding back, and another to realise he was nude, save for the white cloths bound his wounds but still gave him some mobility. Trying to sit up reminded him acutely that not being a ball of light and eyes was a terrible thing. Everything ached, down to his individual strands of muscle. Something else was also wrong. Something was missing.

Lucifer had been lying on his back. 

The cloths restricted his movements just enough that his arm could not bed back to feel for his wings, but the caress of silken sheets against the bare, tender skin of his back confirmed it.

His wings, even the stumps, were gone. All six of them. 

He just barely clamped down his shriek of horror and indignity. Deep breaths, Lucifer. Think about calm. Peace. Soothing music. Lucifer prided himself on his intelligence. Squawking like an offended seagull in a strange room while injured and barely able to move was, plainly, a horrible idea. He had to think of something, plan something. Put his mind at work to anything but wondering about how empty his back felt, how unbalancing in its lightness.

Still, some sound must have escaped him. In the next moment, the carved double doors to the room were thrown open, showering Lucifer in the warm candlelight from the lavish corridor beyond. A figure sauntered in with all the lazy grace and regal majesty of a tiger, chin high and chest puffed out, fresh as dew and dressed in a loose robe that dipped to her navel. Lilith.

“Had a good beauty rest, little Snake?” She sat down on the bed as though she owned it, the mattress sinking under her as she leaned in closer. Her piercing gaze slid along every line of his body, every inch of exposed flesh, somehow making Lucifer feel a little more naked, “Nearly a week of snoozing, was hibernation fun?”

Carefully averting his eyes from the sheer amount of skin she was flaunting with a benign smile plastered on his face, Lucifer replied, “I should have known this was your residence,” then, unable to stop his tongue, “would you happen to know what happened to my wings?” 

Lilith beamed proudly at that, puffing her chest out a little, as if it was not close to...spilling already, “No need to thank me, Apple Face, I didn’t particularly want to experiment if you regenerate like other demons do after ‘death’.”

Lucifer unclenched his jaw, rage shoved aside by curiosity, “What do you mean, I would have died with my wings?”

“Oh, little Angel, you aren’t exactly _ angelic _ anymore, are you,” she spoke with the air of a parent to a child who refused to grow up. Lucifer glared at her and Lilith blinked at his reaction, “Please don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that they weren’t growing back? Or that they were quite literally poisoning you?” she crossed her arms with a huff.

He turned the possibility of it over in his head. The ‘sins’ that had been dragged from him had swallowed his halo and possibly his holiness as well, though he was well aware they were simply a cruel and symbolic gesture from God. Wings were a symbol of any angels’ power, and his had been giving him nothing but agony lately, perhaps the thought was not too far fetched.

The twinge of begrudging gratefulness for the succubus under the simmering indignity that she had laid hands on his person was very unwelcome.

“So...you saved my life,” The words tasted strange on his tongue, but Lilith had such a self-satisfied expression that Lucifer had to ask, “...why in damnation did you do that?” That was most certainly not his wish.

“I thought an angel like you would appreciate shows of good will?” She tried, unconvincingly, “Alright, fine, don’t give me that look. Whatever happened during the fight does not affect my promises. I just need to hear your wish, alright?”

“That is...that only raises more questions than provide answers,”

Lilith straightened her robe, somehow flashing even more skin, forcing Lucifer to suddenly finding great interest in the embroidery of the comforter. He could hear the smile in her voice when she replied, “I have a good handle on what your wish could be, and I think our interests may align,”

Lucifer turned to look at her in surprise, trying to play it off as unconvinced, “Oh? And you would know me so well to think I would not wish for your demise? Or the destruction of Hell?”

Lilith shuffled closer, almost touching noses with him, while Lucifer leaned back as far as he was able to get away from her, “If you wanted to kill me, you’ve had your chance. As for Hell...you would have nowhere to go. And you’re too boring and chaste to grab at my body like some common monkey,” she makes a clawing motion at her chest and Lucifer almost _ splutters _. This woman truly knew no shame, “So go on, little darling Bird of Heaven, let’s hear you voice your desires. Let’s see if we wish for the same things.”

In a flurry of movement, he had grabbed her by the front of her robe and pulled her down onto the bed, hands pinning her by her neck. Making sure his modesty was still preserved by the covers, his looked down at the demoness who was, surprisingly, not resisting. In fact, she was pleased, as if Lilith had been expecting, anticipating, a physical outburst from him. Lucifer’s hands tightened. The wound there was long gone, with how shallow it was, but her still dragged his thumb across the pale, smooth skin where it should have been. He leaned down, as if drawn to that phantom cut on her neck, breathing into her ear.

“As my reward for spilling your blood, Lilith, I choose to rule over Hell as its King,”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! i love all your comments, kudos and bookmarks!  
this is kind of my first time writing a multichapter fic with an end in mind so its really awesome seeing that people actually like it!
> 
> From the 27th onwards i will be pretty much overseas until mid december, which means i probably won't be updating this as often.  
I will still be writing though, even though it would probabaly be horrible to find out that all my characterisation is off when canon rolls out
> 
> I am also working on an AU fic involving the main hh crew, but that will likely come after this self-indulging fic is done  
thx again for the support so far and apologies again for having a terrible update schedule! and not really checking whatever i write and posting it the second i finish!
> 
> another note: ‘Heav'n has no Rage, like Love to Hatred turn'd, Nor Hell a Fury, like a Woman scorn'd’ is, yes, it is from a 17th century play. i have just added the historical inaccuracy tag.


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